


Worth A Thousand Words

by ObsidianRomance



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bottom Sam, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsidianRomance/pseuds/ObsidianRomance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taken from an anonymous prompt from the spnkink_meme: Sam is so scared to tell Dean he's pregnant that he winds up revealing it in a text message to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth A Thousand Words

Sam strummed his fingers across the tabletop of a corner booth in a diner that looked exceedingly similar to the hundreds of diners he and Dean had frequented.  The drone of air circulating the establishment was picking at his last nerve, leaving it raw and irritated.  The final nail in the coffin was when Dean started humming in thought as he perused the menu despite the fact that he was going to order the same thing he always did. 

If Sam dug down deep enough, he knew there was more to his current mood than simple annoyance.  It all stemmed from the nerves eating away at him.  Eyes bouncing nervously off the parameters of the room, he caught sight of a middle aged woman making her way towards them with a huge smile on her face.

“Hi, you two.  My name’s Katie and I’m gonna be taking care of y’all tonight.”  She turned her smile on Dean who threw her his own beaming smile, complete with eyebrow raise.  After turning to Sam, her smile faltered.  “Aww, sugar, you look like you’re having a tough day.”

The corners of Sam’s lips quavered under the visible effort they put into trying to turn upwards.  Instead, he ended up making an uncertain sigh and looking even more pathetic.  His stomach tightened into a knot and he avoided eye contact.  “I’ll have a turkey club sandwich deluxe.”

Katie’s pen worked in a flurry over her pad, unfazed by the briskness of Sam’s order.  “No problem.  You?”  She regarded Dean.

“I’ll…”  Dean pursed his lips together in thought, skewing his lips to one side and drawing out the ordering process.

Sam cut him off, words spilling out of his mouth quickly while he continued to fixate on the tabletop.  “He’ll have a bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon, extra grease.”  After ordering for his brother, Sam’s exhale went shaky and he retreated into himself again.

“Well, okay then.  Drinks?”

Seemingly still shocked over Sam ordering for him, Dean lowered an eyebrow at his brother and ordered two coffees in a gruff burst of words.

“One coffee.  I want water.”  This time, Sam looked the waitress in the eye and felt himself crumbling under his own thoughts.  Without another word, he kept both palms on the table and pushed himself to his feet, quickly retreating towards the men’s room.

“He alright?” Katie followed Sam’s escape route with her pen.

“He’s…”  Pausing, Dean bit the corner of his lower lip, shrugged and gave a smile.  “We had a long day.  Nothing so terrible that some hot food can’t fix it.”  He smiled again, this time with more effort, in an attempt to dismiss the woman.

“Well, I’ll get right on that.”  She gave one last glance towards Sam, just long enough to see him burst through the bathroom’s main door, before spinning on her heels and heading towards the kitchen.

In his peripheral vision, Sam saw her go, happy to leave pretending to be normal functioning people in Dean’s hands.

Alone in the men’s room, Sam paced the small stretch of tiles in front of the sink.  He could feel the pregnancy test burning a hole in his back pocket.

It was there.  Tucked safely into denim and covered by constant downward tugs of cotton and flannel shirting.

He’d been carrying it for days.  It was a wonder Dean hadn’t found it.

He bought it a week ago in the same drugstore they’d stopped in to get enough gauze to wrap the damage their recent hunt left on Dean’s forearm.  Since then, he’d been just as afraid to take it as he had been of not taking it.  He couldn’t leave it in the Impala or their motel rooms, Dean’s sneaky fingers would find it and then he’d know.

He’d know Sam got stupid and put a major kink in their lifestyle.

The only option Sam could think of, other than taking the damn test and throwing it away, was to carry it on him. 

It almost wiggled out when he bent down to lay a salt line the other day.  It almost fell out of his pocket when Dean shimmied his jeans down the other night but Dean was to focused on fucking Sam that he was able to shove it under the bed until his older brother fell asleep.

And now it was red hot and searing into his backside, present in all of Sam’s thoughts.

He was pretty sure he didn’t need the test anymore.  Waiting a week made things clearer.  If he wasn’t pregnant then he had cancer or some hormonal imbalance.  Still, he kept the test.

He felt sick for a lot of reasons.  He felt like something had taken control of his body and his thoughts.  Whatever he just did out there in the diner, the attitude he used to cover up the fear bubbling in his gut, was cluing Dean in.  Choking on a breath, Sam didn’t realize what was about to happen until he was suffocating under the need to retch.  With a hand pressed to his mouth, he stumbled into the nearest stall and fell to his knees.  Hands shaking with nerves, he held himself up on the edges of the toilet and choked on an upheaval.  In the end, it was neat.  He didn’t make a mess and flushing the toilet made all the _sick_ go away.

He wished the rest of his problems were so easy to fix.

Still shivering, he pulled the pregnancy test from his pocket.  It was already opened.  He’d read the directions hundreds of times.  He could practically recite them.  Still, he clutched the folded paper in his hands and read them again.

By the time he decided to take the test, he knew Dean wasn’t going to accept “I didn’t feel good” as an excuse for being gone so long.  He still needed five minutes, five minutes to wait for proof of what his logical mind suspected.  Peeing on it, he set the test on top of the toilet-paper holder.

Waiting wasn’t any more stressful than the uncertainty he’d been living with for weeks but Sam thought it still sucked to be standing in a bathroom stall that smelled like piss while staring at something he just peed on himself.

The wait was over with a glaringly obvious plus sign.

There wasn’t even a shadow of doubt that it could be a false positive.

Picking it up, Sam’s hand shook so hard that he could barely focus on the plus sign, which was probably good because despite having thrown up six minutes ago, he felt about ready to do it again.  Now that the test was in his hand, he couldn’t figure out what to do with it.

He felt compelled to keep it because one look at it was so much easier than using words to say the same thing.

He felt like he should keep it because it’s _his_ and it’s _real_ and he owned it.

Suddenly he felt like he wasn’t talking about the plastic test anymore.

Sam’s heart was pounding hard enough to make certain that he was going to throw up again.  He let the test clatter to the floor and threw up bile.  When done, he knew he couldn’t keep the test.  He couldn’t.  He’s not about to shove something he peed on in his back pocket but he’d come too far to throw it away and pretend it didn’t happen.

There was a nagging need to solidify the fact that it _did_ happen.

Evidence of the test landed itself in the lone trashcan in the corner but not before Sam snapped a picture of the positive test result window with his camera phone.

Letting out an unsteady laugh, Sam thought that was the type of situation he’d been afraid of happening when he was young and stupid.  It’s funny now that he’s still just as afraid of the situation.  There was no happy ending to what just happened in the bathroom – his last name made sure of that.

Head falling with a thud against the cool wall, Sam tried to figure out how the rest of this equation would work out.  Every attempt at a solution ended up twisting Sam’s stomach in knots.  He’s too nervous to actually man up and deal with this.

Phone still in hand, he stared at the picture he’d just taken.  It was enough to get a point across but didn’t hold much of an explanation.  He knew he’d have to talk, and not just the frustrated words he got across through snorts and heavy sighs.  The picture, however, could stop him from saying the words he’d been afraid of.  His fingers worked without brainpower and he shot off a text message to Dean, zapping the picture across the diner and into Dean’s palms.

Counting backwards from twenty, Sam was absolutely still aside from the movement of his lips.  He reached zero, splashed his face with water and walked out of the bathroom.

No one was looking at him.

Everyone was looking at him.

At least that was how Dean’s eyes felt on him.

He didn’t even sit down before Dean was shoving the picture Sam had just sent in his face.

“What the,” Dean lowered his voice to a hush to keep the conversation between the two of them.  “What the fuck is this?”

“It’s a…”  Sam slid into the booth.  Their food was on the table and his stomach flipped over, reminding Sam that he hadn’t eaten for a while.  “It’s what I was doing in the bathroom for so long.”

Unprepared for the cool response, Dean had several false starts before he got proper words out.  “A baby, Sam?  Really?  What the fuck are you going to do with a kid right now?  We can barely keep ourselves alive.”  He pushed his burger as far away from as he could and scoffed, low and disapproving in the back of his throat.

“You don’t think I know that!”

“And it’s mine?”

 _That_ Sam couldn’t believe.  He was prepared for the prickly reception of his news but he wasn’t prepared for the accusation in his brother’s question.  Blinking several times, he shook his head to see if something was knocked loose in his head and he was hearing things.  But, no, Dean was still staring at him in wait of an answer.  “Of course it’s fucking yours!  Dean you…how could you…”  Pulling back, Sam was sure hurt was slathered in hearty layers over his face.  “Really?”  Voice dipping enough to let the disbelief out, Sam knit his brows.  “ _Really?_ ”

Dean threw his walls up.

Sam watched it happen.  He _knew_ it happened.  Still…he let his emotions get the better of him.  “Why the hell wouldn’t it be yours?”

“I dunno…I,” Dean’s defenses clicked into hyper drive and he looked out the window.  “We always used protection so…”

“Fuck you.” Slamming his palms against the table, Sam was loud enough to draw other diners’ attention.  He had no idea where he was going but that didn’t matter as much as getting out of the diner and subsequently, Dean’s presence. 

He stormed out, knocking into Katie on the way.

The woman stumbled but steadied herself enough to catch the tears on Sam’s face.  If she was annoyed that Sam had almost toppled her, it didn’t show.  She sighed and walked towards Dean with a sympathetic face.  “I figured there was something more than a bad day going on between you two.”

“Lady, you have no idea.”  Running a hand over his face in emotional exhaustion, Dean scrubbed at his jaw.

“You love him?”

Katie’s question startled Dean, making him give her a dumfounded look.

Tsking, the waitress shook her head and repeated herself, slower and with a softer tone.  “Do _you_ love him?”

“Yeah…I…” Dean’s eyes caught his cell phone, still sprawled on the table and stuck on the last message Sam had sent him.  “I…yeah.”

“And he loves you?”

“Yeah.  He does.  God knows why, but yeah.”

“Then whatever you two have going on, whatever it is, things will work out the way they’re supposed to.”  Katie put a hand on Dean’s shoulder before reaching out for his practically untouched burger and Sam’s sandwich.  “I’m gonna wrap these up for you.”  Turning away, she looked over her shoulder, “An’ don’t worry about your tab.  It’s on the house.”

Dean gave a weak smile.  “I don’t deserve that.  Really.”  His defenses fell.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it.”

************

Sam walked.

The diner was close enough to the motel that he could have gone back, slipped into bed, and pretended to sleep until Dean gave up trying to talk to him.

But he didn’t want to pretend.

He didn’t know what he wanted.   After an hour, he still didn’t know.

He was pissed that Dean would treat him like that but he wasn’t shocked.

Dean was right, they could barely keep themselves alive.  Adding a kid to the mix was only going to make their already hard lives even harder.

He found a bench and sat down because his legs were so unsteady he thought he was about to become extra friendly with the sidewalk.  There were things in his brain that logic was leaning towards.

His pregnancy was new.  It had barely even stuck.  He could get rid of it, end it and pretend it never happened just like he and Dean pretended all the other unpleasant times in their lives never happened.  That option made the most sense.  He’d already scoured through the town’s directory and found the right people who could make that happen.  All it would take was a phone call in the morning and there wouldn’t be a baby by nightfall.

His phone dinging brought him out of his reverie and he saw that he had a new message from Dean.

He wanted to throw the phone in the middle of traffic but years of building up the instinct to respond to his brother won out and he opened the message.

It was a picture.

It was the ugly comforter that adorned the beds in the room he and Dean were sharing but that wasn’t what caught his eye.  The real focus of the picture was a onesie that said “You think I’m cute?  You should see my dads.”  Underneath it, Dean typed two words – “ _Come back?_ ”

It was as much of an apology as Dean could muster right now, Sam knew that.  Over an hour earlier, Sam had taken the easy way out in texting Dean a picture.  He figured it was only fair Dean got to play that game too.

The picture went out of focus and Sam realized his eyes were damp, tears building up in the corner so that he had to squeeze his eyes shut to clear them.

The onesie was corny.  It was something he would have made fun of weeks ago.  Now it was something that meant so much more.

It meant Sam had an hour’s walk ahead of him.

***********

Pushing open the motel room door sent a creaking noise to shatter the silence of the room.

Dean froze the moment Sam stepped through the entryway, leaving them to avert their eyes before cautiously catching each other’s stare. 

“Sammy…”  Dean held out his palms and sighed.

Slinking into the room as if moving in slow motion, Sam took a tentative seat on the bed, facing Dean but staring at the carpet.

“Sammy…I…I knew the baby was mine.  I knew…I just…I…”  It was an attempt as an explanation but throwing them both into the messiness of the conversation they needed to have left them both feeling lost.  Dean scratched at the back of his neck and swallowed thickly.  “Damn it, Sammy.  Sometimes I’m just an idiot.  I’m just an idiot who says stupid things and I don’t know why.”

Raising his eyes to look at Dean, Sam gets stuck on looking at the onesie Dean sent him a picture of.  It’s on Dean’s pillow, looking rumpled and a little like it’s been on the receiving end of that weird tugging, twisting thing Dean does with the bottom of his shirt when he’s worried.  “You bought that.”

“Yeah…I…”  Shrugging, Dean turned to retrieve the onesie, looking down at it in thought before getting down to Sam’s level.  “I just…I reacted badly before.”

“No…you’re right, Dean.  We can’t have a kid.  It’s insane.  I mean…the idea of it is just _insane_.”

“We’ve been called worse.”

“Yeah, well, I’m an idiot for letting it happen.  I knew you’d be pissed.  I just…I thought…you know, I thought I was pregnant for a while but I was afraid of actually figuring it out.  I was afraid it would just be another thing I did to disappoint you.”  Until the words were out of Sam’s mouth, he hadn’t realized that was where the fear stemmed from.  He shivered and turned his head to the side, staring at a fissure in the wall.

“Woah, woah, _woah_.”  Dean dipped to the left, trying to line himself up as closely as he could to Sam’s range of vision.  With one hand, he twisted Sam’s face to meet his.  “Whatever you think is your fault…whatever _you_ think you did…you didn’t do it.  It’s not your fault.  It’s…I mean…when you think about it…I did this to you.  You getting pregnant right now?  That isn’t anything to take blame for.  It’s definitely not something that would cause me to be disappointed in you.”  Dean turned his head and scoffed.  “Shit, I’m an asshole, Sam.  If I made you think that way…then what kind of asshole am I?”

Sam let out a nervous laugh.  This was where they always landed themselves, smack in the middle of misunderstandings and assumptions.  “You’re not _always_ and asshole.  And you were right.  We can’t have a kid.  It’s…well…we just can’t,” Sam reiterated.

Dean sighed, kneeling and situating himself between Sam’s legs.  “You want to get rid of it?  We can…if you want to…”

Up until two minutes ago, Sam thought he’d say yes.  He swallowed and took shallow breaths, brushing his nose so close to Dean’s that they connected on his exhales.  His hands made their way to Dean’s so they could pull the onesie away and his own fingers tightened around it.  “I don’t want to push a kid out but…it’s _our_ kid.  I want it to stay _our_ kid.  I…I thought about getting rid of it.  It would be easy, you know?  But…I don’t want that.  Not really.  I don’t want this…not now…but I don’t _not_ want it either.”

Dean’s only reply was a sigh and pulling Sam into a snug embrace.  He didn’t speak for a long while until their breathing synced up and his words found Sam’s ear.  “You shocked me, Sam.  In the diner…I was an ass because you shocked me.  I didn’t say those things because I didn’t want it.  It’s not going to be easy and I think we’re a little in over our heads but we’re quick learners, right?”  He bit his lip and got a better hold around Sam’s back.  “You know those days when we don’t have to deal with our usual bull shit?”

Sam nodded into Dean’s neck.

“On days like that, I think about wanting a little rugrat we can dress up in a onesie like that.”

Sam pulled back in shock.  Sometimes, after sex or a close call, their guards slipped enough for them to talk about warm and fuzzy thing but what Dean just said was never one of them.

Dean shrugged.  “I’m sorry I was an asshole.  I’m sorry I made you so nervous to tell me that you had to take a pregnancy test alone in a public bathroom.  I…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” Sam blurted.

The nod Dean gave was enough to let Sam know he’d never been mad about that.  One of Dean’s hands found its way to Sam’s middle, right under his belly button, and rubbed in stunted strokes.  “I want it.  Regardless of when this happened, regardless of how many obstacles we are up against, I would always want it.”

Sam stiffened.  The words were… _a lot_.  They’re heavier than almost anything else Dean’s ever said.

“Wha?  Sammy, what I do?”  Dean gave his brother a confused look.

“Nothing.  You didn’t…you…” Running a hand though his hair, Sam sighed.  “It’s weird to think about all this.  It’s _hard_ to think about being happy.  You know?”

“I know.”  Dean’s voice saddened.

Voice picking up volume as he went, Sam kept his eyes trained on Dean’s.  “I want it to.  Wanted it before it was a plus sign on a stick.”  He saw the way his brother’s lips curved up on one side and how Dean’s fingers twitched against his thighs.  “And that’s fucking scary.”

“Nah.  We’ve dealt with scarier thing, it think.”

Sam launched forward, arms looping around Dean’s neck and pulling them together so strongly that the wind knocked out of them.

There was plenty smothered between them.  The fear.  The misunderstandings.  The want to please each other.  The decision to do this.

The onesie.

Their baby.

Sam wasn’t sure how they’d do it but they’d figure out a way.

They’d both done the impossible several times already.

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp : http://archiveofourown.org/works/1023025


End file.
